


A Little Restless

by MossPrinx



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Couch Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mostly Smut, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6555802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MossPrinx/pseuds/MossPrinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris gets antsy watching a restless Hawke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Restless

**Author's Note:**

> This really got away from me, jeez.

                Fenris watched as Hawke paced around the room, humming some Ferelden lullaby as she wandered from bookshelf to bookshelf looking for nothing in particular. The book on the elf’s lap had gone forgotten, his attention turned to the restless woman before him. From his spot on the couch, he could see the sway in her hips as she moved, orange glow from the fireplace casting warm light on the brown skin of her bare legs—even from a distance, he could make out the scars from her fight with the Arishok so long ago. She was clad in only an oversized tunic and smalls, a rare occasion as the influx of dear friends running in and out of the house whenever they pleased prevented her from doing so often (though they’ve all known each other for well over a decade and have seen their companions in worse states of undress); Fenris was in a similar state, his shirt and armor had been left behind somewhere in their bedroom, leaving him only in his telltale leggings. He was suddenly hyperaware of his staring when Hawke turned to go shuffle through something on the other side of the room, ducking his head back into his book as if he’d been reading it the whole time, silently hoping she hadn’t noticed the pause in the sound of page turning (and knowing her, she likely did).

                As she passed him, he heard her stop, feeling her eyes on him. But she did nothing, and frankly, he didn’t know what he was so nervous about—maybe it was the faint stirring in his gut he knew was the beginnings of desire, or guilt from his wishing that she’d bend over so he could have a better view of her backside. Internally, he cringed—he was no stranger to lust but he couldn’t help but feel like a teenage boy, aroused even by just the implication of bare skin.

                “Fenris.”

                He somehow managed to meet her eyes nonchalantly, almost put off by the blank stare she was sending his way before he remembered fondly that that’s just how she looks. “Yes, Hawke?”

                For a moment, she said nothing, and the elf feared he’d been caught gawking—his favorite mage had an eerily keen intuition, but was usually polite enough (or just didn’t care) to bring up the little things. His fear gave way when her emotionless stare morphed into a warm smile, dark eyes glittering with what Fenris had long since learned was love and affection towards him. He wouldn’t voice it out loud, but getting a smile from the stone-faced mage often sent his heart racing, and it took quite a bit of bribery to silence Isabela when she accidentally caught his fierce blush the first time it happened many, many years ago.

                “Just wanted your attention for a moment, that’s all.” And she was off again, this time shuffling through papers left on a desk nearby the couch her lover was reading on. Fenris chuckled, raising the bottle of wine he’d brought with him to his lips for a short sip. From the corner of his eye, he could see that Hawke had paused her investigation to watch his hand place the bottle on the side table closest to him, staring until he slowly pulled it back to his lap. Her eyes trailed up until they met his—Fenris didn’t need to get a good look at her face to know she was blushing, but he _did_ send a wink her way, for good measure. He chuckled again when she looked away, a hand coming up to cover the lower half of her face.

               “I can offer more than just a moment, if you’d like,” Fenris offered, voice taking on a dark tone Hawke was all too familiar with. Looking back, she saw that the book he was reading had found its place by the wine, the elf patting his open lap as an invitation. Hawke didn’t need a lot of convincing, calmly placing the papers she’d been skimming neatly back onto the table before making her way to the man sending her bedroom eyes from their couch.

               She stood in front of him, almost between his legs, as he stared up at her with what could only be described as dark promise. The hand that wasn’t propping his head up lightly trailed up her thigh, drawing lazy circles as he smiled at her.

               “If you’re offering,” Hawke started, momentarily distracted by Fenris cupping a hip and stroking it gently with his thumb. “Who am I to turn you down?”

               Climbing into his lap—carefully, so not to bother his sensitive tattoos—Hawke bit back a gasp when Fenris lowered her hips to meet his. Leaning forward, he peppered the column of her neck with short kisses, occasionally pausing to nip places he knew were most sensitive. A whisper of his name had him breaking contact to look up at the woman he was ravishing, smirking when her hands slid from his shoulders to clasp behind his neck and her forehead met with his. A grunt was pulled from his throat when she ground her covered crotch onto his, the gasp she let out cut short when the elf beneath her captured her lips in a deep kiss. Fenris laughed when the mage squeaked into the kiss, her grinding faltering momentarily when she felt her lover grope her behind none to gently.

              “Is this what you want?” His voice dropped sinfully low, sending shivers up Hawke’s spine. A warm hand reached up to cup one side of her face, a thumb stroking a defined cheekbone as he smiled innocently at her. Internally, she was damning him—one, for knowing _how_ to get all hot and bothered, and two, for _applying_ those techniques effectively in such a short amount of time.

              “You offered,” Hawke mumbled sheepishly against his forehead, lurching when he jerked up into her, brushing harshly against that bundle of nerves. “I’m sure you have something in mind.”

               He chuckled darkly as he moved to her neck, relishing in her whimper when he nipped and sucked at a particularly sensitive spot at the base of her throat. The hand at her cheek fell to a breast, and he was delighted to find she had opted to go without a bra. “Are you sure about that? What if what I have in mind is taking you outside and having you where everyone can see?”

               That earned him a reprimanding nip on the shell of his ear, Hawke feigning indignation as she pulled away and looked down at him. “Then I trust you’ll come up with something actually doable.”

               “I can think of a few things, then…” With that, the hand at her breast flew to the back of her head, pulling her down for a fiery kiss as he took control of her hips. Fenris could tell his lover was loosening up, small moans and gasps threatening to break where their lips had joined—she always thought too much when it came how vocal she was when they got intimate, so he counted this as a personally victory.

               Hawke pulled away from him, hand on his chest creating space between them, and he found himself worried for a moment—try as he might to deny it, he has a habit of thinking too hard himself. But instead of moving away, Hawke just looked down at where they often found themselves joined and rocked, slow and hard, undulating her hips for more friction. Fenris watched her face, all flushed and breathing heavy, and found his resolve slipping.

               It was a gasp of his name and the stutter of her hips that broke said fragile resolve, leaving Fenris groping harshly, just for a moment, before composing himself and demanding that she lift her hips. She complied, hovering just above his now blatantly obvious erection.

               “Like this?” Fenris didn’t know if she sounded so alluring on purpose or if he was starting to hear things, and frankly he didn’t care. Looking up at her, he grinned wolfishly and pressed a kiss to her chest.

               “Perfect.” And with that, he shoved the hand not groping the fat under her bottom up her long shirt and then down her smalls, passed coarse curls, moaning into her shirt when he felt how wet she was for him. “Oh, Hawke…”

               Her hips jerked as he stroked her warm folds, grinding down his palm impatiently when he didn’t go as fast as she’d liked. The hand on her ass squeezed tight, and the elf took the opportunity to take a covered nipple into his mouth when she arched into him. Those devilish fingers of his slipped inside the second she relaxed, first one, and then another when ground down onto him after a moments pause. She was riding his hand now, arms wrapped around his neck as she directed her quiet moans and squeaks to the ceiling—she was close, Fenris could tell. A small laugh caught in his throat—the Champion of Kirkwall didn’t have quite the resolve she was rumored to.

               The only indication that she came was the sharp jerking of her hips and heavy panting that followed the tightening walls around Fenris’ still thrusting fingers. Hawke shivered at the feeling of him pulling out, sighing as she dropped beside him, one leg and both arms still holding onto him possessively. She could hear Fenris groan, no doubt tasting her when he brought his fingers to his tongue. Feeling a little devious herself, she leaned forward and trailed a hand up his thigh, higher and higher until it was ghosting over the bulge in his leggings. He hissed when she grasped him, stroking him as she pressed lazy kisses to his shoulder. Growling, the warrior’s hand shot up her shirt, fondling a soft breast with one hand and lightly tugging at the garment with the other. Hawke only grunted in reply, not wanting to release her grip on him. After some coaxing she relented, allowing him to remove the tunic separating him from her breasts—before he could even reach them, though, she was gone from his lap, instead moving to crouch between his legs, ready to remove his sinfully tight pants. He raised an eyebrow at her.

               “Hips up?” She tried, and he let out a short huff of a laugh.

               “I thought we were doing things my way.” He drawled, purposefully not complying. Hawke scoffed.

               “Changed my mind. You’re all give and no get, Fenris.”

               “What can I say? I’m too kind,” Fenris chuckled, but lifted his hips anyways, allowing the woman before him to disrobe him with ease.

               “I _knew_ you weren’t wearing any underthings,” She muttered, kissing up the thighs she loves so much. A hand came up to stroke him as she licked up the underside of his length, humming contentedly when a hand combed through the thick curls atop her head.

               She took him in her mouth as far as she could—which, granted, wasn’t very far—using her hand to squeeze and stroke what she couldn’t take. An arm was pining down his hips, bracing the elf who had a bit of a bad habit of bucking. Above her, she could hear Fenris moaning, unabashed in his pleasure—something that took a lot of time and trust to build up to. This, of course, only spurred Hawke on; removing her mouth, she worked his length with a tight grip, lapping at the precum that leaked from his tip. Fenris must’ve been caught off guard, she mused, because the hand in her hair tightened and he tried to buck his hips—likely wanting the sensation of her mouth back—as a surprised gasp left his lips.

               “Nng—you’ve got a devilish mouth, do you know that?” He ground out, sucking in a breath when Hawke leaned in to suck at his ballsack, looking up at him mischievously. She pulled away with an audible _pop!_ , making a sound of consideration as she licked a trail back up his shaft, grinning when the vibrations made him groan.

               “You remind me so often, I have no time to forget,” Hawke mused aloud, watching his face as her pace quickened. He swallowed thickly, feeling the coil in his gut tightening much too fast for his liking—the way Hawke’s hand left his hip and snaked between her legs had not been lost on him, and it certainly wasn’t helping his resolve.

               “ _Enough.”_ A large hand covered hers, the one in her hair tugging gently until she stood. Immediately, Fenris’ hands were on Hawke’s hips, fingers reaching under the thin fabric of her smalls on each side as he pressed kisses to her stomach. The smell of her arousal only made him that more bold. “I need to be inside you, Hawke.”

              Said woman looked down at him in consideration, like she was weighing her options in her head; Fenris knew her game, but as much as he liked to give chase while she feigned retreat, he couldn’t deny the sudden desire to be as close to her as possible. Wrapping his arms tight around her, he glanced upwards to shoot Hawke a pleading look, faltering when a hand came down to comb through his hair. At the sound of her name, Hawke’s face visibly softened, and she sighed in mock defeat.

              “How could I possibly say no?” The way Hawke’s voice deepened, hushed and dripping with want, sent shivers up Fenris’ spine. Slender fingers came down to run lightly over his face, careful of the lyrium that branded him, and Fenris’ couldn’t deny the way his heart fluttered—Hawke was so gentle with him when no one was looking, offering him love and affection in small doses whenever he let her close enough. He didn’t catch the soft moan of _venhedis_ as it fell from his lips, feeling the tingle of his markings pulling at her mana.

               Fenris pulled her smalls down over her hips not nearly as fast as he thought he would, not as tightly wound as he was some minutes ago. For a moment he leaned back, watching Hawke step out of the cloth at her ankles, taking in the sight of her naked body. A warm hand slipped between her thighs to stroke her heat, and Fenris relished in the sound of her gasps when he found she was even wetter than he’d anticipated. He knew Hawke blushed furiously when he used the evidence of her arousal to help lubricate himself, but still, she waited for his permission to move forward.

              “Turn around,” He instructed, and she gave him a questioning look but otherwise did as he asked. Hands flew to her hips and guided her down to his lap, legs spread by his knees as she used the arm of the couch they were about to further defile to hold herself steady. Beneath her, Hawke could feel her lover positioning himself at her entrance, pressing kisses to her back as she held herself up. She heard him whisper another command between her shoulder blades, and it was her turn to shiver. “ _Sit._ ”

              The feeling of him filling her was almost too much. It was a slow process, penetration—neither of them wanted to chance running up to grab the “special oil” Isabela had gifted them and ruining the moment, so while Fenris let her take initiative, he made sure to use the hand on her hip to pace her. Hawke gasped shakily when she felt her ass finally settle on his lap, slightly irritated at the pause but appreciative of the opportunity to savor the moment. A faintly glowing arm draped itself across her chest, momentarily reaching up to expose her neck to wicked teeth before the hand dropped to tug at a nipple.

              Hawke rocked atop him, slowly at first, just wanting to feel where they joined. The hand at her hip helped lift her, her bracing herself on her tiptoes as Fenris thrust up into her. Behind her, she could hear Fenris moaning into her shoulder, pausing from his marking of her neck with lovebites to relish in the feel of her. She clenched around him instinctively, aroused by how vocal he was—she was just as much a fan of his voice as anyone else who had encountered him. Unfortunately for her, this did not slip past her lover, who—in the heat of the moment—had forgotten something he learned the second time they found themselves in Hawke’s bed.

             Hand tilting her head back, Fenris groaned into Hawke’s ear. “Hawke, you feel amazing…”

             Atop him, the mages hips stuttered as she whimpered and lightly slapped his bare thigh. He helped her find her rhythm, whispering encouragement and thanks into the side of her throat, chuckling at the effect he had on her. With a huff, Hawke paused centimeters above his cock, looking down at him over her shoulder.

            “Lean back.” Fenris blinked dumbly before doing as he was told; that wasn’t a request, it was a command. Hawke almost always let him lead when it came to sex— _“so you can do things you’re comfortable doing,”_ she’d answered honestly when he called her out on it, but was fine with taking control when she wanted at his insistence—so he was actually pretty giddy to see what she had in mind.

            He sucked in a breath when she moved her legs so they were closed between his, slipping a hand between them to stroke him lightly before rubbing the tip of him along her slit, moaning softly when his length brushed over her clit. Positioning him beneath her, her free hand grabbed the arm of the couch and her head swiveled back to look at him for permission to continue. At his nod, she sunk down, engulfing him as she set a startlingly quick pace. Using Fenris’ thighs for grip, Hawke bounced fast and needy in his lap, the slap of their slick skin resonating throughout the room. For moment, the elf swore she’d magicked his breath away, the action knocking the air out of his lungs. When she rocked and grinded and undulated atop him, he had to take a second to sit back and hold on, instead counting the absurd amount of scars the mage was littered with. Most were small or thin, scarred black like sketches on her soft skin.  There was one, a large, deep gash to the right of her spine, and he knew he’d find a matching one on her stomach if he looked—that one she got when the Arishok surprised her (and everyone present) with a sword through her lower stomach. He tried not to think too hard about that one.

           “You good?” Looking up, he saw Hawke looking back worriedly, a hand reaching back to stroke his cheek. Fenris hadn’t even realized she’d stopped, too lost in his memory. He knew she wasn’t upset, but his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment as he nodded his head. Smiling sweetly, she leaned back and rested her forehead against his cheek, rocking gently as his arms wrapped around her waist.

           They stayed like that for a minute before Fenris patted her hip, a signal for wanting to change position. Adjusting them so Hawke was on her back on the couch, he laid between her spread legs, hands at either side of her head. Hands clasped behind his neck as he entered her, Hawke breathing a raspy sigh below him. He grunted, mirroring Hawke some minutes ago and immediately setting an intense pace, catching _her_ off-guard. Fenris watched as her face contorted, mouth open and brows furrowed as she moaned up at him. Leaning down he caught her mouth in a fiery kiss, one hand pulling back to grab a thigh and pull it to lay on his hip; the new angle got a shout out of his lover, much to his glee. She pulled him down to bite and moan into his sensitive ear, failing to stifle her moans as he pounded into her. Fenris was close, his rhythm slightly off whenever she purposefully clenched around him, but it was okay—he could feel that Hawke was also at her peak. Slipping the hand at her thigh between them, Fenris teased and rubbed at her clit, laughing when the sensation made her jerk and huff. The legs at his hips shaking and teeth sinking into his shoulder, Hawke came with series of grunts squeaks, not letting go until Fenris found his climax a short time after.

          Pulling out, Fenris laid on his side, partially wrapped around the taller woman whose feet were dangling off the side. Hawke kissed the top of his head, running her fingers through his sweaty hair as she dozed off.

          “Was this all a ploy to get me to stop pacing? I know everyone else hates it.”

          “Not at all.”

          “So I’m right to assume you _were_ staring at my ass?”

          “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hawke.”

           Of _course_ she noticed.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if you spot any mistakes please! I've been working on this for weeks but I'm not perfect. I love comments, even if they're short!


End file.
